Responsibility
by greenk
Summary: In which Castle receives a package. An AU season 4 one-shot. Rated T for minor language.


Hello, all! I guess I have some explaining to do before you start reading. Well, first off, this was written in mid-July or early August. It was a long while ago; before Castle returned on Monday night with _Rise_ (which I thought was absolutely AMAZING by the way). And secondly, this was originally supposed to be a multi-chapter fic. The thing about my multi-chapter stories of the past is, well….heh; they never get finished. So this time, I wanted to actually _complete_ the story before I posted it. But obviously that never happened. I pounded out this chapter and about two more before abandoning ship. Life got crazy, as life often does, and I admittedly lost my direction and interest.

Well, now that _Rise _(did I mention it was AMAZING? I did?) has aired, this fanfic has officially become AU despite the fact that it was supposed to take place in mid-season 4. Because of that, I really have no desire to keep on with this idea. But I didn't want to let this story go to waste, rotting away like the old Word document it is. So here you have it. This is my unfinished project now turned AU oneshot.

Hope you enjoy?

**Disclaimer:** If it belonged to me, you wouldn't be watching.

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><p>"Katherine Beckett, I never."<p>

She smirked at him, recalling the first time he'd uttered the phrase. It seemed so long ago, so far away. Back then, the world made a little more sense. She was comfortable in her job, in her relationship with Josh, in her partnership with Rick. She was comfortable telling herself those tiny little lies to get by. Now…

"Mind out of the gutter, Castle." She shook her head at his antics. While she'd always secretly enjoyed them for the most part, she found that now they offered her a little relief, a little normalcy to offset everything that had happened in the last several months.

To an untrained eye, everything was the same now as it was seven months ago. He'd still bring her coffee in the morning, conjure wild theories when they were trying to crack a case, distract her when she was trying to get paperwork done, and invite the team to the Old Haunt after closing a particularly agonizing case. She'd still shoot down his conspiracy theories while trying to hide a grin, allow him to invade her personal space while she was trying to finish some files, and accept his offers for dinner at Remy's or a round of drinks at his bar. Yes, they acted like they were doing just fine.

They weren't doing fine, not at all.

She'd been back at the precinct for two and a half months now. For a few weeks, it was just filing papers and running down license plates. It was better than being cooped up at home while recuperating for four long months, but still so monotonous that she'd sometimes sneak down to the morgue in the middle of the day to talk to Lanie or to clear her head. Or to get away from _him_.

She knew that he tried his best not to be overbearing. In the same way, she tried not to get fed up and snap at him for his overbearingness. From the moment her eyes had opened to the day they released her from the hospital, overall a period of two weeks, he'd been by her side and trying to assist her in any way he could. And she wasn't having any of it. It eventually resulted in one of their more heated arguments. Doors were slammed and things were said, things that they didn't mean. They didn't talk for at least a week afterwards.

During that time, Lanie took a few days off from work and stayed with her. They watched chick flicks, chatted, and ate ice cream. She had finally started to develop more of an appetite after weeks of eating nothing but ice chips and applesauce. It felt so comfortable and _normal_, making small talk and clinking spoons together with Lanie while digging into a tub of Cherry Garcia. The medical examiner was truly a godsend, not asking loaded questions or making assumptions about her injuries, unlike a certain writer she knew. And missed, admittedly. After Lanie went back to work and she was all alone, with the occasional visit from her _busy_ boyfriend, she decided that she couldn't take it anymore.

The decision to call him first shocked her. She wasn't one to give in so easily and usually waited for him to break and make amends. What was even more shocking to her was that he didn't answer her first call or her second. After the third call was sent straight to voicemail, she began to worry. She left a quick message, telling him to call her when he got the chance and then opted to fret about it over a glass of sparkling cider in a nice, warm bath. She rested her head against the rim of the porcelain tub and sipped the glass of bubbly liquid. It wasn't wine-after all, she wasn't allowed any alcohol while on pain medication-but she'd thought it would do. Only her lower half had been submerged in the water, so as not to soak her bandages, but it'd still felt nice. Just as she had been easing herself out of the lukewarm water, she heard her cell ring. She'd hastily grabbed for a towel and wobbled over to the couch, grabbing the phone.

"_Hello?" she answered, a little breathless._

"_Beckett? Are you all right?"_

_Of course that was the first thing out of his mouth_. _"I'm fine, Castle. Just had to walk over to get the phone. Why haven't you been answering my calls?"_

_He let out a tired sigh. "I've been busy. You said we needed to talk?"_

_She was surprised by the tone of his voice. He sounded exhausted and _troubled. _"I did. But, Castle…are _you_ all right?"_

"_Beckett, what did you want to talk about?"_

_The way he brushed off her question and her concern felt like a slap in the face. She had to pause to recover from the blow. "I just wanted to apologize. About before. Sorry if I'm wasting your time."_ She'd tried and failed to keep the bite out of her voice.

"_No, Beckett, that's not what I…" He let out another heavy breath. "I'm sorry too, about what I said. I've been meaning to call you but things have been…hectic."_

She had wondered what the hell he was talking about. Things were _hectic_? And she had been about to ask, but he'd continued.

"_I just needed time to think. I think we both needed time to think."_

_She tried not to snicker. "Sounds like you've been doing a lot of thinking. Try not to hurt yourself."_

_He let out a humorless, one-note chuckle. "I'm sorry for not getting back to you sooner too. I really was occupied here but never too occupied for you, and I was worried you'd still be angry. It was silly and cowardly of me, and I'm sorry. I hope you'll forgive me."_

_He sounded sincere, but strangely un-Castle like. She began to feel more anxious than when he hadn't been answering her calls. So she decided; it was time to lay out all the cards._ _"I've missed you._"

_She felt embarrassed about how little and vulnerable she sounded, but she also knew the words would be enough to bring his walls down._ _"_Kate_. I…you have no idea. I promise I'll visit soon. I_ promise_. And I'll call you tomorrow morning. Don't ever expect me to stop bugging you." _She remembered smiling at the joke, feeling the anxiety lifting a little. _"Until then-and please don't be mad at me for saying this-take care of yourself."_

_She was sure he could hear her eye roll over the phone. That was the Castle she knew, always worrying about her wellbeing, always doubting her ability to look after herself_. _"I think I can manage."_

"_I'm sure you _can. _Not as sure if you will. Has the good doctor been stopping by?"_

_She shrugged, noting the disdain in his voice as he mentioned Josh_. _"Periodically. He's been _busy _too."_

"_I really am an ass. Beckett, I swear on all of my valuable Star Wars memorabilia that I'll try my best to make it up to you."_

_She let out a laugh at that._ _"Yeah, okay. Talk to you tomorrow then."_

"_Night, Kate."_

It hadn't been _until tomorrow_, but she'd decided to take what she could get. It'd been a strange conversation, but she'd been glad that they'd at least sort of ended on a positive note.

Months had passed since then, but she noticed that Castle still seemed _off_ sometimes. She had her suspicions to why. Certainly, it had to be something to do with her. Was it because of the things she'd said? But she'd apologized for everything, and he had also apologized in return. She was a detective, _dammit._ Why was it so hard…?

"Kate?"

His voice brought her back to the present. "Huh? What's up, Castle?"

"Earth to Beckett, come in Beckett. You were spacing out on me. Feeling okay?" His mouth lifted into a patient smile, but there was no substance behind it.

"As a matter of fact…" she huffed, grabbing her jacket and standing up suddenly, her chair flying back with a squeak, "…I'm not. I'm going home." She put a hand to his chest when he started to rise from his own chair. "Don't follow me."

"Beckett…Kate, did I…" he paused, searching for the right words. "Did I do anything to upset you?"

She turned, contemplating him for a moment before grasping his forearm and dragging him onto his feet, into an empty hallway. He was just so dense sometimes. And now it was time to give him a piece of her mind.

"No, Castle, you haven't done _anything _to upset me. You know, besides acting so distant that I can barely even hold a conversation with you anymore. I mean, I thought we were partners-friends. Friends can tell each other anything, right? But all this time, during my recovery and now, I've just felt like…I don't know, like you've been holding out on me. You've been acting like…" she trailed off, seeing the disbelief on his face. "You know what, never mind. This is stupid. I'm just going to go."

And she commended herself internally, ignoring her partner's pleas, as she marched out of the precinct without looking back.

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><p>Richard Castle barely made it to his office before collapsing, luckily rear first, into a chair. She was too perceptive for her own good sometimes, Katherine Beckett. He'd tried to act normal, like everything wasn't falling apart around him; but apparently, he hadn't been doing such a great job. She'd seen right through him, something that shouldn't really cause any surprise. From day one, she'd been reading him like an open book, cracking his binding and turning pages he didn't even know existed. Still, he never realized how hard it would be to keep a secret from her until that day, a little over a week after she was released from the hospital.<p>

It started out like any normal day would, with scrambled eggs and a warm cup of coffee. Alexis had been simultaneously talking on the phone with Ashley while trying to help him out with a crossword. She'd been doing that lately, trying to make more time for him. While he had been elated to get to spend some extra time with her, it was also concerning. Just the night previous, she'd cancelled plans with her girlfriends and had opted to stay up late with her dear old dad, eating kettle corn and watching _Goldfinger_. When he'd asked her about it, she'd just patted him on the head and had told him that she liked hanging out with him. That had only served to concern him more, to worry him about how much the shooting had really affected his daughter.

Just as Alexis had excused herself from the table with cellphone in hand, his mother had come bounding through the door, looking radiant as ever. She'd passed the kitchen table, taking the tall glass orange juice from his extended arm. He hadn't even looked up as she'd told him that she'd taken the liberty to retrieve their mail. It didn't look like anything too important, just bills and junk mail. Oh, and one more thing addressed to him. She'd leave it on his desk. He had a package.

He hadn't even blinked. He received packages frequently enough. Perhaps Conrad was working on a new novel and wanted his expert advice. He'd then proceeded to ask her, pen mockingly poised over the black and white crossword, if she knew of another word for 'nosy.' _Seven letter word; starts with an m and ends with an -other? _She'd slapped him lightly on the arm on her way to his office and had gone to look for Alexis, leaving him alone in the quiet kitchen.

It had been shaping up to be a good morning, and so he'd decided to get some writing done. It wasn't as if he had an injured detective to visit, he remembered scowling at the thought. She'd thrown him out again, but he hadn't been able to stay too angry. He'd already texted Lanie several times in the last couple of days to ask how Kate was doing. He'd figured that he would probably end up cracking later that night, calling her with a heartfelt apology. Maybe he'd drop by her apartment with flowers. He never had stood a chance when it came to the woman, his partner, his…

He'd felt his heart drop into his stomach, and his hand had stilled in its journey as he caught sight of the heavy duty manila envelope perched on the corner of his desk. His eyes had locked on the address, on the familiar scrawl of a ballpoint pen in the middle of the thick parcel. He _knew_ that handwriting. Of course he did; he'd seen it hundreds of times on forms, paperwork, IOUs after particularly long but jovial poker games. He had to take a moment to catch his breath. He'd known right then that this would mark a monumental point in his life, even without the current circumstances looming, without the image of a gorgeous brunette detective lingering in his mind and the knowledge that whatever was in this envelope would most likely kill her.

After all, he'd never received a package from a dead man before.

He'd spent the rest of the day locked in his office, staring at the damning parcel and making up weak excuses in his head in case his mother or daughter would come knocking. But they hadn't of course. They knew from experience that it wasn't in anyone's best interests to disturb the writer when his door was shut. He'd spent the night in his office and the next day, coming out only once to use the restroom and to smile feebly at his daughter in what he'd hoped would come off as an assuring gesture. The next day, when he'd come out of his office, Alexis had been sitting there on the couch. Waiting for him? He'd never know, but it sure had seemed like it. She'd all but interrogated him as he'd downed a scalding cup of black coffee, as he'd washed and shaved his face over the porcelain sink, as he'd bombarded Lanie via text messages with a few questions of his own regarding his injured partner. He had told Alexis that everything was fine, and that he just had a few things to take care of. She had believed him for the most part, he thought. After all, _Heat Rises_ was due out in a few short months. This late in the game, publishers didn't move deadlines, not even for personal tragedies.

After passing intense questioning and scrutiny, he'd retreated back into his office. That evening, he'd picked up the package for the first time with trembling hands, weighing its contents, running his shaky fingers over its edges. He was in the possession of a ticking time bomb. Did he dare break the seal or would it be better to just wait for the imminent detonation?

Day four, it'd finally happened at about two o'clock in the afternoon. He'd been both surprised that it'd taken him this long and amazed that he'd somehow got the courage to take the leap. He'd spent an inordinate amount of time staring at the papers inside without taking them out. There were papers of all different colors; white, pink, yellow, and green and photographs that he could distinguish without actually _seeing_. He'd felt suddenly ill; hot and cold, thirsty and bloated, numb and nauseous all at the same time. Then the phone had chimed, and when he'd seen who was calling, he'd nearly thrown the phone across the room in terror. It was like she'd known what he was about to get into. Like she had been warning him…or maybe, perhaps, condemning him. He'd ignored her first call and her second and whatever number of calls had followed. She'd been persistent. He'd been in no state of mind to talk to anyone, let alone _her_. But Kate Beckett, above all else besides his daughter, had always been his weakness.

So he'd returned her calls a little while later against his better judgment. She'd sounded worried, lonely, and _sad_. And even though she knew how push all his buttons in the right ways, he'd been certain that everything she'd said was genuine. And, as always, it'd rendered him powerless. _She'd missed him_.

In the months that had followed up until now, he'd gotten a little taste of what Montgomery had gone through for _years_. And he'd never empathized with the man more. But the small part of him that would curse the Captain forever still bellowed in the depths of his consciousness. _Why me?_

He knew why, deep down. He knew. Everyone knew that he'd do anything for his partner. But she wasn't just his partner anymore, not just his friend. No, now she was his _obligation_. And that thought terrified him as much as it exhilarated him. Katherine Beckett was the strongest woman he'd ever known…and would ever know, certainly. In comparison, he was weak and little, just a man who knew how play with words, how to move them around and make them sound like something worth saying. And now she was his _responsibility_. It wasn't as if he was reluctant to look after her. No, he'd protect her with his life. He was only worried that he wouldn't be able to do the job that the Captain had left him with, a job that he needed to do right because if not, he wouldn't survive it. He _needed_ to keep her safe.

Because he loved her, damn it all. _He loved her_.

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><p>That's all folks. I doubt you want to read the next two chapters, and I was actually thinking of recycling them into brand new fanfic material anyways. You actually might end up reading them eventually without even knowing it, hehe.<p>

So, what did you guys think? Worth your time? Let me know via that pretty review button. Please. Please?


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